


The Past is Never Past

by Lypreila



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2 - Fandom, Mass Effect 3 - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Alenko's going nutty, Backstory, Biotics, Colonist background, Drabble, Drunk Shepard, F!Shepard - Freeform, F/M, Fem Shep - Freeform, I POSTED SOMETHING WITH MORE THAN ONE CHAPTER, It's been how many years and this dork still has me by the heart?, Mass Effect - Freeform, Mass Effect 2, PTSD, Past Alenko/Shepard, Pissed off Shepard is pissed off, Set during ME 2, Shekarian, Shepard needs a cold shower, a bit - Freeform, biotic, don't fuck with the fam, fun with numbers, garrus gets pissed, i was bored, it's a thing, look - Freeform, paragon - Freeform, send fucking help, she gets it, shepard fucks up, with a sprinkling of renegade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lypreila/pseuds/Lypreila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard refuses to return to her toxic relationship with Kaiden, Kaiden struggles with the effects of his biotic amp, and Garrus remembers an old file a friend gave him before he left C-Sec.<br/>Or.<br/>Garrus 'walks in' on on Shepard and Alenko having a fight.  He tells himself that he was only listening in because he was worried what a biotic battle would do to the ship.  He's lying, of course. </p><p>Backstory for Clementine Shepard, the newest in my lovely line of misfits, in preparation for playing the Trilogy before ME: A drops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I like playing in Bioware's sandbox, these characters belong to them. Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. Also, be fore-warned, this is pre-Shekarian, post Alenko. Shelenko? I don't even know their ship name.... There are circumstances in this fic which ~imply~ past non-con elements, (colonist background), but it is only implied, never explicit. Warning for swearing too.
> 
> There's a bit of fun with numbers in this. Can you spot the references?

It took Garrus Vakarian over two years to figure out why he didn’t like Kaidan Alenko. It came to him one night while the Normandy was docked at the Citadel, and though he greeted Kaidan politely, it was later, as he was rummaging through supplies in Medical, looking for something to dull the pain of his healing face, that he heard their voices, raised, coming from the starboard lounge. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, really, he respected Shepard’s need for privacy, but the tone of the voices, the timbre…. Something about it stalled him, leaving him hovering outside the door instead of moving on, glad for the reduced activity that came with the Normandy’s night cycle. 

“You didn’t contact me. Two years, Clem.” 

“I know.” Shepard’s voice, small and tired, followed by a sigh that Garrus understands all too well. 

“And now Cerberus? Do you have any concept of the word loyalty, Shepard?” Alenko’s words are angry, bitter and he can sort of understand given their past, but the next words out of his mouth drowned any sympathy that Garrus may have felt for the human. “You’re pathetic.” 

It was even worse when Clementine Shepard grunted softly in agreement. He heard the sound of Alenko’s sigh, and a rustle of movement. Garrus made to move away when Shepard’s voice, soft with a gentleness he’d rarely heard, came drifting from behind him. 

“Have you looked into it yet?” He could almost hear Alenko bristle. 

“No.” 

“But the new meds work great - there’s a Salarian onboard - Solus. I asked and he said that-”

“I said no.” Came the sharp retort, followed by a dull thud, the sound of a fist hitting the Normandy’s wall. Garrus himself was intimately familiar with that sound, especially as of late. He’d been piling boxes up to hide the small dents. “It’s fine - I’m… I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me Shepard.” 

“I didn’t say there was.” He could hear the anger under the ice with which she coated her words, and for some reason he found himself grinning stupidly at the opposite wall. 

“Didn’t you? Two Years.” 

“Oh, for shit’s sake Kaidan-”

“Yeah, here we go…”

“Shut up. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to turn this around on me. I never said that there‘s anything wrong with you. Don‘t put words in my damn mouth.” 

Their voices rose steadily, till Garrus found himself digging his claws into his palms. He managed a step away - two, and then he was around the corner with his relief and the certainty that he shouldn’t be hearing this. But their voices, Shepard’s low and fierce, Alenko’s rough and angry, follow him down the hall, and he paused again, unsure why, only knowing that his feet were not responding to the orders of his brain. 

“Then why? Why didn’t you find me as soon as soon as you woke up?”

“Because you’re toxic, Kaidan!” The words are a harsh scream, and once they sink in Garrus finds himself wincing. “I don’t know what it is - I don’t know if it’s you, a part of who you are, or if you’re sick, if this thing is making you sick.” 

Her voice drops an octave, and he struggles to hear what she says next, paused in the hallway, torn between caution urging him to stay and discretion prodding him to leave. 

“Every time…. Every time. And I’ve tried - but I am tired of it. I am so sick of taking your shit in silence. And I don’t have to. I’m done. I didn’t go through all that for this. Get yourself some help, Alenko - then maybe, if you want, we can try being friends.”

Silence. Silence broken only by the gentle hum of the Normandy’s systems and Garrus’ own breathing, until the sound of rushed footsteps and a series of thumps. 

“You want to talk about toxic?”

“Shut up.”

“You want to talk about fucked up?” 

“Shut up, Kaidan!”

“How did you survive Mindoir anyway?”

“Kaidan…” Maybe Alenko can’t hear the clear warning in her voice, but Garrus can. 

“I’m not the one throwing myself into every no-win battle, in front of every bullet.” 

“I said stop it.” 

The world shuddered. Garrus felt the power of the shockwave, even as its force was dissipated by ricocheting around the corner from the lounge, and it was enough to get him moving, covering the few feet back to them in seconds. A battle between biotics is not something that should be done inside a pressurized space this small, and it will not happen under his watch - not on this ship. He didn’t spare a thought to the nagging feeling of pleasure the thought of escorting Alenko off-ship gave him. He didn’t think about it at all, really. 

“Commander?” He raised his voice before going in. There was a time that Garrus walked in on a biotic fight unannounced, and it had earned him a trip to Huerta. He was more cautious now, and moved slowly as he entered, picking his way carefully around the debris that littered the doorway. He was prepared for almost anything, but the destruction of the room still shocked him. Books were scattered around, and the bench was dented, damaged, a table in pieces and shattered bottles completing the picture. Shepard stood incredibly still, but for the slight stirring of her black hair in the draft from the air vents. Blue eyes narrowed dangerously as she stared at Alenko, not even looking at Garrus when he stepped in. The biotic wonder himself glanced back and forth from Garrus to Shepard, a snide smile pulling at the edges of his lips, though his eyes looked grim. 

“Shepard?” 

“Get the hell of my ship Alenko.” She didn‘t so much as glance at Garrus, and every line in her body spoke to her focus on the Human in front of her. Alenko faltered under her withering gaze, eyes softening, lips pulling down at the corners. He took a step forward, hands coming up, reaching towards her. Shepard’s response was instant, her stance widening for better balance, breath evening out, shoulders set just off parallel to the biotic, the classic steps of someone readying themselves for a fight. Garrus stayed quiet, waiting, pistol already in his hand though he didn’t remember drawing it.

“Shepard-”

“Now.” 

Kaidan pulled his lips back in a tight grimace, hands dropping to his sides as he inclined his head to her. He moved away, flicking a brief glance at the Turian, and then he was gone, stomping his way towards the elevator. It was only once they heard the noise of the doors sliding shut that Shepard seemed to relax, and Garrus couldn’t fail to notice the shudder that moved through her frame. He raised a brow plate at her. Banter and camaraderie was all well and good, but this is uncharted territory for him. Does he have the right to question her? Should he reach out a hand, offer some kind of consolation? Before he can reason through it he saw her, forcibly shoving down whatever emotion put the look of vague horror in her eyes, straightening up, and when she turned to him she was Commander Shepard again, offering a tired smile and a roll of the eyes. Then she walked away, leaving Garrus to sigh and clean up the mess alone. He couldn‘t find it in him to hold the extra work against her. 

His hands went through the motions of setting things to rights automatically, freeing his mind to think, and he couldn’t help but compare the Shepard he knows now to the Shepard with whom he’d first served, those years ago. She had become more sympathetic, less like the indestructible pillar of strength she had seemed during the hunt for Saren. She was worn down now, uncertain, and he wondered if there are other ways in which she had changed as well. Suddenly he stilled, an old memory bubbling to the surface, causing him to think back to the day he met Commander Shepard. The day he left C-Sec. 

*********

“Vakarian.” 

Garrus finished shoving the last of the various things in his locker into his bag, then turned around, eyeing the Salarian behind him. Truan, a tech expert and hacker with nearly omniscient power when it comes to getting into things she’s not supposed to. She is young for a Salarian, all of 15 years, and is one of the few people in C-Sec that he trusts (almost) without reservation. She shifts from foot to foot, a habit she has never been able to break, and held her Omni-Tool up, gesturing for him to do the same. 

“Found out your leaving. Sorry. But here - thought you should know what you’re getting into.” 

Garrus nodded his thanks, and raised his own Omni-Tool, tapping in his permission for a file transfer. As the data poured in, he looked up at Truan again.

“What’s all this?” 

“Files. Dossier. Medical reports. For one Clementine Shepard, Commander in the Alliance Navy and now the first human Spectre. You’re dedication to your investigation is admirable. But perhaps it is wise for you to know what your getting into. This information was buried deep. We must assume someone doesn‘t want it easily found.” 

He nods his thanks as the files finish transferring, makes some small talk, and leaves the locker rooms in C-Sec for the final time. By the time he is installed aboard the Normandy the incident is forgotten, and the files sit, unread for more than 2 years.

******

He remembered now, though, so when he had made a fair amount of progress towards setting the lounge to rights, he retired to the battery, and pulled up the files. The first one is a certificate of birth, followed by various reports from educational institutions. He idly scrolled through them, unsure of what he was looking for, till he came across one titled “File # 24601 - Mindoir” He opened it with the flick of a talon, and settled in for a read. 

 

File # 24601 - Mindoir 

Name: Shepard, Clementine  
Height: 5’1”  
Weight: 100 lb  
Hair: Black  
Eyes: Blue  
Age: 12  
Birthplace: Mindoir  
Birth date: 2158, 11th April (E-R)

 

Subject discovered by Squad 4 of SSV Einstein during clean up operations on Mindoir. (Note: See file M-153-S for further reading.) 

Partial transcript from Mindoir after-action report, squad 4, Lieutenant Tresco; 

A week after the initial entry we finally began to make progress in the more isolated communities. Increased support from SSV Einstein enabled squad 4 to wipe out the bulk of resistance in Sector 2F5L; Town 5XG, known locally as ‘New Livingston’ . Mop-up ops were ongoing. At GST 1620 squad 4 breached the door of a large 2 story dwelling on the outskirts of 5XG. Engaged immediately by 5 hostiles; 4 Batarian, 1 Human. At approximately 1635, while engaged in clearing the remainder of the ground floor, the entire building was rocked by an explosion; confirmed by Pvt. Kelley to be Biotic in nature. Leaving Pvt. 1st Class Edmundton downstairs, Pvt.’s Kelly, Navpaptra and I continued upstairs to finish clearing the home. 

The majority of upstairs rooms were declared cleared without incident. Around 1640 Pvt. Kelley attempted to open the final door, but was tossed back upon entrance, rendering her unconscious. Taking up positions on either side of the door, Pvt. Navpaptra and I entered into the home’s restroom. Inside we discovered 1 human child, aged no more than 13 years, gripping a piece of broken glass, the bodies of 1 Vorcha, and 1 Turian on the floor beside her. I ordered Navpaptra to holster his weapon while I attempted to speak with the child. Though she didn’t speak, it quickly became evident that she was the source of the Biotic activity, and was responsible for the deaths of the Turian and the Vorcha. After several futile tries at communication failed the child attempted to throw me from the room using some sort of biotic skill, but succeeded only in knocking me from my feet. Pvt. Navpaptra, fearing for the safety of squad 4, rendered the child unconscious via standard Alliance-Military submission strike. (Note: while not the action I would have taken, I fully support Pvt. Navpaptra’s decision. He performed well under pressure. See attached form O.C.R 42) Upon my recovering from the Biotic onslaught, we restrained the child with flex-cuffs, and radioed for a medical evac. Child and Pvt. Kelly were turned over to Medical Corps GM 1-618 At GST 1730. 

End Transcript

Diagnosis:  
Physical Trauma - bite marks, both human and alien. 1 Broken rib, bruised tailbone, petechial hemorrhaging; vaginal trauma; infection (cause speculated but unknown, not including in current report), minor hearing loss in left ear, temporary. Appendectomy scar. 

Emotional Trauma - likely, unknown extent. Subject has refused to comply with requests on numerous occasions. Sedation necessary for physical examination. Refuses to take part in therapy. Possible long term evaluation and monitoring needed. 

Biotics - Subject admits to concealing the fact that she is Biotic. Manipulation rate and power above-average for age group. Impressive use of powers demonstrated without the use of an amp. 

Conclusion:  
While Subject will heal physically with time, emotional trauma remains an unknown variable. Subject is fair to poor candidate for successful re-integration into Colony structure. Biotics ability exceptional. Recommend transfer to Alliance Biotic school of command’s choice, assuming continued monitoring. 

Personal Notes:  
In other words, Captain, don’t let this one go. When you meet her you’ll understand. The kids a wreck, but a wreck with a remarkable amount of raw potential. She enjoys showing up where she’s least expected - so when you get the memo about the malfunction in the nutri-gel dispenser yesterday you’ll know who to blame. The mental effects could be a problem in the future, but with a nudge in the proper direction she could become exceptional. Tell Chakwas to suck on that.

With a flick of a claw Garrus closed the report. Turians didn’t sigh much, but his sub-vocals trembled, and he sank down into a chair. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand, then rolled his head to the side, gazing out the viewing window, but somehow the familiar deep black and scattered stars of space didn’t put him at ease as they normally did. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” He growled softly. 

The empty room didn’t answer.


	2. Ships and Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tali and Garrus try to hide Clementine Shepard's deteriorating state of mind from Cerberus, and Clementine makes a mistake. Warnings for drunk Shep being drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for alcohol use. 
> 
> I didn't thinK I was going to continue this but...  
> *shrug*  
> What the shit. 
> 
> Also available on my tumblr, lypreila.tumblr.com
> 
> I think I might ship Tali and Kasumi. IDFK. Send help

Some time after the confrontation with Kaiden, Garrus found himself and Tali trying to quietly board the Normandy, a very drunk Clem Shepard dangling between them. She was chuckling softly as she was hauled forward, a tiny laugh spilling as she watched her feet dragging behind her. Garrus could see his own worried face reflected in Tali’s visor, and knew that she shared his concern for the woman they were hauling away from Afterlife, main force working after their pleading and cajoling had failed. 

“Chakwas?” THe worry in Tali’s voice was obvious, but he shook his head. Shepard, as drunk as she was, did not need medical attention. She needed sleep. 

“Just… go distract Miranda or something. Pretend you’re interested in the changes to the ship or whatever works…” 

Tali straightened up as they reached the elevator, unwinding Clem's arm from her shoulder, and setting it atop Garrus’. 

“I am interested in the changes to the ship, Garrus. Kasumi and I have already found 5 monitoring devices in Shepard's quarters alone, and…”

“And 2 in the battery, I know, I know.” Garrus looked down at Shepard, nodding now against the plates of his armor, and slid his arm behind her knees, lifting her with a care that was obvious even to the normally oblivious Quarian. One shoulder rolled in a shrug. It had been hard, lately, on the Commander’s two oldest friends, to keep her deterioration hidden from Cerberus. Watching her throw herself into fights, biotics and bullets flying carelessly, trying to work around her, taking down the flankers she didn’t see, and one, unforgettable time, staying her hand when she pointed her gun at a civilian, eyes glazed over, looking at something none of the rest of them could see. 

And yet. 

And yet they kept doing it, kept her struggles as hidden as possible, while Miranda asked more and more questions, and one of the data officers was spotted by Jack coming out of Shepard’s quarters while she, Jacob and Tali were on a mission. Chakwas was worried, and Garrus was worried, and everyone was worried, but she listened to no one. 

The doors to the elevator slid closed, and Garrus’ posture relaxed a hair. It took but a moment for them to reach her room, the lights coming up automatically as they entered, a whimper from Shepard at the bright intrusion. A whispered word dimmed them to a less harsh setting, and Garrus set Clem carefully on the bed. She curled onto her side, lank, sweaty hair falling to obscure her face. The scars on her arms and elsewhere were fading, slowly, leaving silvery lines snaking across her skin, and one claw reached out almost involuntarily, dulled tip tracing the evidence of her battles. Something like a groan pushed through his mouth, and Garrus pulled himself away, stalking towards the bathroom. He needed a shower, and while he wouldn’t presume to take one here, he could at least divest himself of his armor and wash his face while he attempted to figure out if it was a good idea to leave her alone. 

He must’ve been oblivious, or worn down, or both, because once he blotted his face dry and turned towards the door he saw with surprise that Shepard was standing in it, leaning precariously against the frame, a drunken smile playing on her lips. 

“Getting ready for bed, Vakarian?” 

The words were slurred, and Garrus rolled his eyes, stepping forward and attempting to move past her. She stood her ground for a moment, before sliding aside, a slight stumble betraying her. He moved towards the exit, carefully putting his back to Shepard. Her civvies were tight, leaving little to Garrus’ imagination. He needed a cold shower - and sleep. 

“Go to sleep, Shepard.” He growled, making his way to the door. If she was capable of teasing him, it was perfectly acceptable to leave her alone for the evening. “I’ll come back for my armor tomorrow.” 

Small hands slid around him from behind, locking him in place when he began to step forward. He could feel her face, warm and soft, as she pressed it into his back. He froze. 

“You’re leaving? So soon?” The words were purred, and Clem trailed one finger up his abdomen, making Garrus swallow the sudden lump in his throat. “Kaiden liked to do that too, you know. Walk away. Leave me with the silence, and the stars, and the bugs, and - oh!”

Her wavering, drunken prattle was cut short as Garrus spun around, one arm sliding about her waist. With little effort he lifted her, draping her form over one shoulder. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” 

He ignored the statement, and the little laugh that followed, instead stalking back to the bathroom, reaching in and setting the shower on full blast - cold. Her muttered questions and protestations were brushed aside easily, and Garrus allowed himself only a small amount of satisfaction as he, not gently, tossed her into the freezing torrent, stepping back very quickly afterwards.

It was just as well. Shepard rapidly morphed into a wailing banshee, flailing her arms and legs, every second not spent gasping for air against the ice cold of the water was filled with cursing, not a few of them flung at Garrus. The Turian picked up the robe hung neatly on the wall and waited, safely out of reach, for the two minutes it took the normally agile Commander to gain full control over her limbs, pointedly steering his gaze away as she crawled out, hauling herself to her feet with the help of the counter. Her clothes were discarded, and Garrus held the robe out, eyes focused on his feet. She took it and after she wrapped herself up he glanced at her, seeing the gratitude briefly flashing through the anger that raged across her face. That didn’t last long. 

“What the FUCK, Vakarian?” She sputtered once she was wrapped securely in the warm cloth. “What the HELL was that for?” 

Garrus stared at her, deadpan, dredging up the use of his C-Sec skills. Give the person you’re interrogating nothing - not a smile, not a shift of the mandibles, not a sigh. It was something that Turians, Garrus included, tended to be very good at. They would dig themselves a hole soon enough. 

“Garrus….” She looked sad now, and embarrassed, hair wet and plastered against her face and neck. “I didn’t mean that you - I’m….” A sigh rang into the silence. “I suppose I deserved that. I’m going to bed. And - I’m sorry, Garrus.” 

He grabbed her arm as she pushed past, and when she looked at him, the nameless emotions shifting through her eyes twisted his gut. Gone was the drunken seductress, gone was the fearless biotic, gone was the stalwart commander. In their place was only Clementine, embarrassed and tired, gazing at him with the smallest of sad smiles. Garrus lifted his other hand to her shoulder, and drew her in, squeezing her short frame in his arms. He lowered his mouth to her ear. 

“I’m not Kaiden, but you know that. That doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is watching you self-destruct in slow motion, without having the damn sense to ask for help when you need it. We’re here for you Shepard. Not Cerberus, not the Galaxy, not the Council. You.” 

Her shoulders slumped, and she pulled back, eyes skittering away from his own. Garrus grunted softly, and shifted his hands, urging her towards her bed with gentle pushes. 

“I’m not a child, Vakarian. I can put myself to bed.” 

“Hmm. I’m sure you can.” 

She relaxed after that, and a moment later she was secure in her bunk, eyes drooping with exhaustion. As she was drifting off, she heard Garrus’ voice, soft in her ear, but it wasn’t until her hangover had been chased away with water and vitamins the next morning that she remembered what he’d said. 

“You’re not alone in this Shepard.” 

 

She spent the rest of the day signing reports and requisition forms, idly wondering for the first time if, perhaps, he was right.


End file.
